Disasterpiece
by Damonfan123
Summary: Damon keeps showing up at Alaric's loft, and Alaric can't for the life of him figure out why. Damon/Alaric, FLUFF&SMUT for now, plot later. BoyxBoy SLASHFIC
1. Chapter 1

**Hello. It's been awhile since I've posted here, and I'm kinda back into this whole fanfic thing now that TVD is back on air! I love Dalaric. I don't own TVD, if I did, Alaric would be alive. Please read and review. This will possibly be a multi-chapter piece if I get feedback. If no one's interested, I might continue, I might not. ENJOY! **

**WARNING: Rated M, SMUT, SLASH, BOYxBOY**

Alaric was walking towards his apartment more quickly than usual. It had been a long day at school and he was eager to throw down his bag and drink himself into a black-out slumber. This was how his nights were now, an unhealthy combination of stress, alcohol, and utter exhaustion.

Being a high school teacher was hard enough as it was; what with angst-ridden teens aching for rebellion and mountains of papers to grade every night. But not only was Alaric a high school teacher, he was also Mystic Falls' resident vampire slayer…well, somewhat of a vampire slayer. Alaric was working in combined forces with the Salvatore brothers and Elena Gilbert to keep other supernatural threats out of the small town. Yes, Alaric was tired. He was worn weary by the constant barrage of attacks plaguing Mystic Falls as a result of Elena's doppelganger existence, but he would do anything to protect those he loved. And he loved Elena like a daughter. He'd even come to love Stefan to an extent. The younger Salvatore brother was pitifully guilty and human. The only member of the little tribe who Alaric couldn't bear to think about was Damon Salvatore.

He was the devil himself. With black hair, blue eyes, and a slim body that appeared to be carved of alabaster stone, Damon Salvatore was the embodiment of beauty. He was not extremely masculine in the way of facial hair or bulging muscles, but Damon held the beauty of young Roman boys and angels inside the body of a killer. Because not only was Damon drop-dead to look at, there was a good chance the dark vampire would snap your neck for looking. He was savage and brutal, very different from Stefan, though Alaric had to give the guy props. He wasn't afraid to make the necessary decisions for survival. When Elena and Stefan could justify letting Hitler off the hook, Damon could do what needed to be done. He had proven his worth time and time again during the trials of the supernatural in Mystic Falls. In fact, Damon and Alaric were the get it done team, team badass, as Damon had so cockily put it at the grill one night after an early adventure. Alaric had punched him in the face without a word.

He chuckled at the memory.

But Damon was a devil, that was certain. Everyone in Mystic Falls knew that he was in love with Elena, if he was even capable of that emotion. From what Alaric knew, it wasn't possible. Alaric wasn't sure how far Damon would go to steal Elena from Stefan, but the impulsive vampire hadn't succeeded yet, a fact that was surely frustrating to him, seeing as he was used to compelling or killing for whatever he wanted in the past. Alaric couldn't really give a shit less what happened in the love triangle, what irked him was where he fell into it all. Because for the last two weeks, Damon had been showing up unexpectedly OUTSIDE the times they were working together, and acting…strangely.

Alaric didn't know if it was pent up anger or energy, but for the past two weeks, Damon had been showing up and seducing him. No, seducing wasn't the right word. Alaric had been resisting! But what type of chance did a mortal man have against a century-and-a-half old vampire? That's right. For the past two weeks, sporadically, Damon had been fucking Alaric. And Alaric couldn't for the life of him figure out why.

As Alaric neared the door to his loft he sensed something amiss. He smelled something. For a split second he was afraid something was burning. Had he forgotten something this morning? No, he rarely even turned on the oven and he certainly never lit a candle. Plus the smell wasn't bad like burning, it was savory almost like…cooking.

Fumbling with his keys Alaric burst into his own home and was shocked by the sight that greeted him. Damon, that demonic jerk, was standing in his kitchen with an apron-his goddamn apron-wrapped around his slim waist, cooking what looked like some sort of vegetable pasta dish. The only thought that could force itself clearly to the front of Alaric's panicked mind was what the fuck!? And that's exactly what the first words out of his mouth were.

"What the fuck?" Alaric nearly shouted at the elder Salvatore brother who had looked up and was giving him a look that was at once terrifying and inviting. It looked like he liked what he saw, but with a vampire, that wasn't always a good sign.

"What do you mean? I am cook-" Damon started but was abruptly cut off.

"What the hell are you doing here? How did you even get in!" Alaric was freaking out internally, but trying to keep some semblance of control outwardly. He couldn't help but feel apprehensive. The last couple of times he'd seen Damon it had led to unwanted experiences that left him feeling ashamed. Now, Damon was in his apartment unannounced cooking. Alaric was more confused than ever. The whirlwind of thoughts going through his head had a common theme: that dark-haired blue-eyed vampire was scaring the shit out of him. But Alaric was sure as Hell NEVER admitting it. So he acted angry. He could only hope Damon's heightened senses couldn't detect his fear.

Damon's eyes hardened a bit. He wasn't going to let Alaric grab the upper hand.

"I said, I am cooking dinner for you. You haven't been eating." Damon's measured words left no room for argument, so of course Alaric had to argue. That is, right after he downed a few gulps of whiskey.

As he reached for the first bottle he saw, he suddenly felt a gust of air whisk past him and the bottle disappeared. Alaric was too tired to compute the miracle. He stood looking dumbly at the spot his best friend Jack Daniels had been sitting.

"And you've been drinking way too much of this." Damon sounded almost chastising as he waggled the bottle in his hand, having already made it back to the kitchen before Alaric could even comprehend the bottle was missing.

"What's it to you?" Alaric was getting exasperated. He was too tired to deal with this outrageous situation calmly.

"I care about you, obviously. You're my vampire slaying buddy and your clothes are hanging off of you and you've been drunk every time I've seen you in the past two weeks."

What was this? Damon worried about him? Impossible. There was some ulterior motive. He probably just wanted to soften Alaric up before dragging Alaric to bed and forcing himself upon the weaker man. Alaric shut out any further memories.

The mention of the past two weeks flew past Alaric's ears on Damon's deep, silky voice and lit an angry fire in Alaric's heart.

"Oh, the past two weeks, eh? Don't know why I would feel driven to drink or not have time to eat, not to mention sleep." The biting sarcasm and contempt in Alaric's voice was tangible.

Damon's face actually morphed from its permanent cocky glare for a split second, looking more like an unsure child. Why did he have to make that face? Alaric couldn't help but see that Damon was the epitome of attractiveness…but he DIDN'T LIKE BOYS!

"I made you dinner." Damon offered up, sounding like a broken record player.

I was frozen to the floor in my living room, unsure what to do.

"But if you would rather skip dinner, that's fine too…" A voice whispered directly into my ear. I could feel the hot breath on my neck. I also felt his leg against the back of mine, nudging ever so slightly. Damon was standing right behind me. I was still frozen.

"Ric, say _something_." Damon's voice was no longer suggestive. Now it sounded closer to frustration than invitation.

"I-I-" I stuttered; I couldn't get my thoughts in order, so I said the only thing I could be sure was right: "Damon! Get. Out."

Damon stepped back. For a second I thought I'd hurt his feelings. However, his mask of confidence didn't even waver. I should've known it wouldn't be that easy.

"That's more like it." Damon grinned, apparently satisfied at having elicited a response from me, no matter what I'd said. "Now, why don't you eat something? I mean, seriously, I'm worr-you should eat something. You look weak. You'll get yourself killed pretty damn quick if you don't snap out of this soon. You're not a vampire. You have to feed yourself, and you can't down a bottle of whiskey a night."

As if to show off himself as an example, Damon drained my bottle in one gulp. I eyed him unsurely.

"What? I've had more than a century to build up my tolerance."

This was the Damon I was used to. I felt a bit more comfortable and looked over to see what exactly he'd created on my stovetop, wearing my apron, in my house. I had to admit it looked good. I got a plate and started eating. The whole time, Damon stood by the table, looking at me. I just ignored him. He was fucking weird. Whatever was up with him, I hoped it passed quickly.

Then again, here I was, basically encouraging him. What was stopping me from calling Stefan? If I really hated Damon barging in unannounced and…well, taking advantage of me-_damn it Alaric, you know that's not what it is. Damon isn't raping you. Sure, you didn't ask for it, but you enjoyed it. You can lie to yourself as much as you want, but the reason you're not calling anyone is because you _want _it to happen again. _

No. I shook my head. I did not want this. But even as I convinced myself, I knew, deep down, that I liked Damon's attention. I wasn't gay. Or at least I didn't used to be, but Damon was a different matter entirely. He was stunningly beautiful, smart, evil, and he was my best friend. Wasn't it an honor to be regarded so closely by a man-a vampire-who'd walled most people off? When we'd done it, I'd loved it. Yeah, I regretted it the next morning, and it had caused me copious amounts of shame, self-hatred, and drinking, but Damon was Damon. No one said no to Damon, not even the man who'd come to Mystic Falls to kill him.

"I know I'm hot, Ric, but there's no need to stare. You can see me whenever you want." Damon's snide, arrogant comment made me realize that while I'd been thinking about him, I'd subconsciously been staring at his body. Thank god I didn't blush. I was mortified.

"Don't flatter yourself, I'm just tired." I played it off.

"Sure, you say. If you're tired, let's go to bed." Damon winked. How was he acting so obvious about all this? Didn't he have any doubt that I was going to let him stay? Then I remembered, whether I let him or not, Damon was staying.

"I'm not going to the bedroom with you." I spat, using all my strength to effectively drive him away. "If you insist on staying here, then I'll take the couch. Or you could go to the mansion you own. It isn't as if you are out of space."

Damon chuckled. "Oh, come on, don't be that way."

I stood up from the table to put my plate in the sink, ignoring Damon's comment. I had to be firm about this. I wasn't going to be his personal plaything. Before I took a step, he was next to me, taking my plate himself.

"I'll get it." He said simply, whisking the plate into the kitchen and returning in a fraction of a second. "Now, where was I?"

Damon smiled devilishly, snaking his strong arm around my waist and pushing himself against me so our faces were no more than a few inches apart.

"I want to sleep in the bed." His eyes were dark cobalt. His gaze held me in place with its heat.

"I said you could sleep-"

"You are coming too." Damon cut me off with a kiss. I was still shocked by the rough feel of his mouth on mine. It was much different than any of the girls I'd kissed. Damon's lips were filled with passion and desire, and he could manipulate me to feel the same way.

I felt his tongue in my mouth, seeking mine out and swirling around it, dominating me. I wasn't going to get swept away this time, I told myself sternly. I pushed my tongue against his, trying to close the kiss. He just took it as a challenge and deepened it instead, pushing harder against me. I stifled a moan. He was holding me up, my muscles were limp in defeat. I couldn't hold out against this.

When I finally had a chance to come up for air I made one last ditch attempt to save myself from going along with him.

"Damon, no!" I said with my hands against his chest, pushing futilely.

"What? You want me to stop?" Damon asked innocently, running his tongue up my neck, nipping me lightly just below my jaw line, teasing me. I squinted my eyes shut, trying to remember why I wasn't supposed to be doing this. Before I could react, I felt that he'd backed me up against a wall. Literally.

Damon held my hands pinned against the wall on either side of my face, attacking my lips with new ferocity. His leg was pressing between mine, keeping them apart. My squirming only resulted in grinding against his thigh. I stopped abruptly, holding as still as possible. I was sweating with the effort.

In between kisses Damon breathed into my mouth. "You know…Alaric…I don't know why you pretend not to…want me. It's so obvious…you do."

His words infuriated me. But still I was a victim to his advances.

He let go of my hands, instead wrapping his arms around my neck, pulling me close to him. I could smell his distinct perfume of whiskey and masculinity. It was appealing. It's no wonder he could have a new woman in his bed each night, even without compulsion.

Somewhere in the midst of this Damon had carried me into the bedroom and set me on the bed beneath him. His leg was still in between mine, but he was no longer kissing me. His hands were preoccupied with undoing the buttons on my shirt. He fumbled for a few seconds and then resorted to just ripping my shirt open, scattering buttons all over the floor.

"Damon!" I whined, "I have to have shirts for school!"

"Shut up, I have enough shirts to last the rest of the year." Damon said gruffly, letting his cool hands roam my chest. I arched toward him a bit, relishing the light grazing of his skin against mine. The thought of wearing his shirts excited me, even though I knew they would never fit. Damon was smaller than me, less broad. Still, I couldn't help but like the idea in my state.

When I looked back up to Damon, his eyes were dark and shadowy. I flinched, momentarily terrified of his vampire façade. How could I have been this stupid? Letting a vampire get me alone?

Damon noticed my panic. "Calm down, Ric, I'm not Stefan." He said with a sigh, his face going back to its normal, perfect self.

Then, Damon's hands started working on my pants. I had a noticeable bulge constrained under the fabric, so did he. I laid my head back, trying to relax. Before long my pants were off and Damon was preoccupied with a certain area below my waist. I looked down to see what he was doing and was surprised by the feeling of his warm mouth around me. I cried out quietly, making Damon grin and continue sucking my cock. He was good. I wondered where he got _this_ type of experience from. Did this mean that Damon had done it with other men? I shoved the thought down. Maybe I would ask him about it later, if I had the courage. I didn't think about that for long either, I was overwhelmed by the pleasure Damon was giving me. I was losing all sense of what was right and wrong, appropriate or not. It felt _so damn good_.

"Damon…" I whispered, not wanting to let him know how far gone I was. I refused to moan his name loudly.

"Hmmm…" He hummed. Shit. Forgot about his vampire hearing. The vibrations of Damon's throat caused me to thrust involuntarily. I wanted his mouth all over me, on my mouth, on my body, on my dick. My hands were grasping at thin air, trying to find something to hold onto as Damon took me towards the edge.

And just like that it was gone. Damon had stopped sucking me and undressed himself. He was standing at the foot of the bed, in all his vampiric beauty. His tight muscles were defined but not hulking. He was slim and perfect. His raven hair flopped over his forehead, messy. His blue eyes glowed from under long, black lashes. And his lips. They were wet and…they were Damon. I loved every part of him.

Wait. Had I just thought the word love? Jesus I must be pent up.

Damon leaned over me, his naked torso against mine. Our bodies melded together perfectly. My hands moved of their own accord up into his disheveled hair. Damon hovered over me, piercing me with his stare. He looked a little questioning. I didn't say anything. I didn't trust myself.

He moved his hands to my hips and gently turned me over. I tensed up, knowing what he wanted. It wasn't that I minded. I probably got as much pleasure from this as he did, but the thought made me apprehensive. We'd done it before. That didn't mean I was used to getting fucked by a guy.

Damon leaned over my back, biting my ear with his human teeth, not to draw blood. At the same time he brought a hand up into my hair, controlling my head, turning it so that our mouths could meet. He made it a forceful kiss, overpowering my timidity. My tension eased, replaced with the desire that had tormented me earlier.

Damon broke the kiss, sitting up and biting his wrist. This was how he'd done it the last time too. He rubbed the blood over his cock and then put one hand on my hip. I was laying perfectly still. I felt one of his fingers slip inside me. It didn't really hurt.

He gradually added more until I felt the tip of his cock inside me. I gasped, and in response Damon wrapped his arms around me, one hand on my stomach, the other on my side. It tickled a little bit. I didn't even notice he'd pushed all the way in as he distracted me with his hands.

He slowly thrusted, giving me time to get used to the partially painful sensation. The hand that had been on my stomach moved to my dick, moving in time with his hips. I was propped on my forearms, bracing myself. When I was like this I felt vulnerable. I felt scared but simultaneously excited.

The feeling of Damon's cock inside me was all-consuming. As he picked up the pace I tried in vain to contain myself but soon I was keeping up almost a continuous chant of murmurs. Damon wasn't exactly silent either. He was humming and moaning too.

He was hitting my sweet spot, making my vision go blurry. I never wanted him to stop. I could feel my orgasm building up in my groin. Damon's cool skin against me was relieving. I was burning up, a thin sheen of sweat coating me.

Damon leaned over my back, scratching my shoulder with his teeth. I turned my head over my shoulder to see what he was doing. He didn't even look up at me. His fangs were extended and he was pressing them against my shoulder just lightly enough so that they didn't break through. Something about his face at that moment was undeniably sexy. I turned my head back to the sheets, relishing the sharp prick of Damon's mouth, the pressure building up inside me from his pounding against my hips, his hand pumping me for all I was worth.

Finally I exploded, yelling out in ecstasy. Every pleasurable feeling culminated at once, washing over me in waves. I felt the heat of my cum on my stomach, and my body shuddered. My hair was coated with sweat. Damon didn't stop fucking me, drawing out my climax. I was slumped beneath him, his arm the only thing holding me steady so he could continue his assault.

Moments later Damon found his release.

"Ric!" He shouted. The sound of his voice and the feel of him cumming inside me were beautiful. I felt momentarily proud that he enjoyed being with me so much.

We both collapsed after that, our bodies entangled on top of my comforter. Damon maneuvered himself so that his face was next to mine. His hooded eyes never lost their intensity, and he was intent on never removing them from my face.

"Damon…" I was about to ask him what he was doing. What he wanted from this? Barging into my house at night, cooking for me, ruining me. Why was he doing it? I wanted to think it was me, that he really couldn't help himself, couldn't get enough of me. I didn't want this at the start, but there was no going back to our old friendship now.

Damon hushed me, ever so lightly pressing his finger to my lips. Then, he leaned forward and ever so lightly pressed his lips to my forehead. He stayed like that for awhile. Maybe he was hoping I'd fall asleep. I didn't.

"Damon?" I whispered after some undeterminable amount of time.

"I'm sorry Ric…" He said hoarsely.

Thank God it was dark, so he couldn't see the tears running down my face. I was empty. I couldn't let this keep going on. I wouldn't survive.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry about the POV change in the last chapter. I will be continuing this in the first-person point-of-view of Alaric. Sincere apologies if the abrupt shift jarred anyone. I should've proofread. Anyway, if you enjoy, if you hate, please give me some criticism or feedback in the reviews J Enjoy! DALARIC FOREVER!**

**WARNING- BOYxBOY, rated M**

I woke up feeling more rested than usual, and, surprisingly, not hung-over. I blinked my eyes open, prepared for the brightness of the sun cutting through my window. Instead, my eyes met with a pale wall of alabaster skin. I jumped, not expecting someone in my bed. The memories of last night flooded back to me with frightening clarity. Dinner, kissing, bed, sex… I winced, not wanting to remember any more. But still, Damon had never stayed in my bed. I never expected he'd be here when I woke up.

My eyes roamed up to his face. His eyelashes were resting on his cheek. He was asleep? I never expected Damon would spend the night, not to mention be asleep when I woke up! The whole thing was uncanny and disconcerting. I didn't know how to feel about it. Speaking of feeling, Damon's arm was draped over my torso, weighing me down. There was no way I was getting up without waking him, but I had to get ready for school. I had to clear my head…

I reluctantly leaned over to shake Damon awake.

"BOO!" His baritone voice echoed in the otherwise silent bedroom, and his cerulean eyes flashed open, dancing in amusement. I nearly fell off the bed, scrambling backward in surprise. It was too early for this shit.

"Damon! What the fuck!" I shouted, adrenaline pumping in my veins as if I'd almost fallen down a set of stairs.

"Oh, lighten up. I thought you were going to sleep forever! Give me props for patience!" Damon was still laughing. I was scowling. I set out to head to the bathroom, abandoning him on the bed. Of course, nothing with Damon could ever be that easy.

He pulled me by the arm back onto the bed and kissed me-fucking kissed me!-before letting me go. It took all I had not to sprint out of the room.

I splashed cold water on my face. What was happening? Damon in my bedroom? Damon giving me a good morning peck? What. The. Actual. Fuck. Not to mention, Damon and I fucking the night before. I moaned in confusion and defeat. I had no control over this situation whatsoever. What was I supposed to do? On one hand, I thought I might be in love with Damon. On the other hand, I knew that was utterly impossible and I should find any way to get him to stop this nonsense before someone got hurt. In typical male fashion, I decided to brush my teeth and stop thinking. I only half-heartedly hoped that when I exited my bathroom Damon would be gone. I had no fucking clue what I wanted anymore.

My school day passed in a blur. I had conflicting issues with focus. I had slept better than normal, so I was well rested, but I couldn't stop thinking about a certain dark-haired, blue-eyed vampire who had been sucking the life out of me sporadically for the past two weeks. Overall the day was better than normal. Elena and Jeremy both passed in and out of my classroom according to schedule. I pasted on my usual smile to try to cheer them up. They'd both gone through so much. Losing their parents, their aunt, pretty much everyone who cared about them except me and the Salvatore brothers.

On my way to my piece-of-shit car, I saw Elena and Jeremy getting into something sporty that definitely didn't belong to them. My first instinct was to yell for them to stop, but then I realized the owner of the car was Damon. He so rarely drove, I'd forgotten what his ride even looked like. Then, a pang of jealousy hit me as I saw his trademark white smirk directed at Elena as she climbed in the front. I sharply turned and forced myself into my car without looking back. Of course, how could I have forgotten? Damon loved Elena. He wanted Elena.

I drove to the Gilbert house. It was my custom, on days I wasn't held up at school until it was dark to go to Elena's and act as a pseudo-guardian for the night. I usually just ended up sitting there drinking coffee while they worked on homework or fiddled with their phones. However, it was a custom that let the three of us believe that we had some form of family left. It was a thin delusion, but one none of us were willing to give up. I pulled into the driveway, parking next to Damon's car. Great. Mr. Eternal Stud was here. I shouldn't have been surprised, he was usually here on family night. Hell, he was lonely too.

"Elena, Jeremy?" I yelled upon opening the front door. It wasn't locked, but then again, the most fearful intruders couldn't get in unless invited anyway.

"Hey Alaric." Elena said to me, breezing through the hallway and into the family room. I followed in her wake, entering the room where Jeremy and Damon were already preoccupied with video games. Surprisingly, it was competitive between the two. Damon had better reflexes but wasn't used to the games. Jeremy had the experience of the average shut-in high school boy…which is to say, a lot.

Elena decided to make small talk until the two guys were out of their technologically induced focus comas.

"So, Stefan wanted me to come over tonight…I know it's family night and all but we never get to spend any time alone so…" She looked at me with pleading eyes.

"Elena, I'm not your dad. You can go where you want, I can't stop you." I said with my palms held upward. Elena smiled bitter sweetly, acknowledging the truth to my statement. Her dad was dead. She had no male authority figure to make the rules now. I felt guilty for pointing it out, so I decided to play the part just to make her feel a bit better.

"Go on, Elena, get outta here. I'll see ya at school tomorrow." I managed to gruffly spout. God. I was awful at the father thing. She grabbed her purse and walked out the door. I heard a car leave the driveway. Stefan must've been waiting for her outside. I laughed softly, she knew me too well.

Damon looked back over his shoulder, watching her leave. I couldn't decipher the look in his eyes. Was he angry that she was leaving, that he wouldn't get to spend a night in with her? I couldn't help but internally feel happy that she was with Stefan. That gave me a better chance, right? I hypothetically smacked myself. Damon and I would NEVER be like that. Not that I would even want us to. And I wasn't going to be some replacement. Nope. So Damon could just kiss that notion goodbye.

I sat there for a few more minutes. No one was talking. Damon and Jeremy were barely moving. All I could hear were the clicking of controllers and guns on the game itself. I decided there was no point in sitting here any longer. I was bored, Damon was obviously completely ignoring me, enamored more with video games and Elena. But honestly, what had I been expecting? This wasn't an unpleasant surprise, this was just another day in the life of Alaric Saltzman. And, like any other typical day, it was going to end with me feeling lonely, drunk, and forgotten. I twirled my keys around my finger and made my way to the front door.

"Alaric? Where you going?" The boyish voice of Jeremy sounded from the living room.

"I'm heading home, Jer. Got papers to grade." I smoothly lied, casting one last glance at the pair before opening the door. Damon was turned, staring at me. His icy blue eyes told me nothing. Then, he turned back to the TV, and I jammed my keys into the ignition and sped home.

My loft felt like an ice box. I told myself it was just to warm up, but I knew the real reason I held a bottle of Jack Daniels in my hand. I needed to escape my own damn mind. My own stupidity. I sat down in my armchair and emptied a glass of the fiery liquid. Then another. And another. It was easy to forget this way. I could forget the way my life had left me to become a vampire, the way my neck had been snapped more than once before I magically sprung back to life, the way the people of Mystic Falls fell around me like flies while I carried on, worth less than each and every one of them. But I was just wallowing. When you feel sad about one thing you feel sad about everything.

With that, I passed out in the chair.

I groaned groggily upon regaining consciousness. I didn't really remember last night. I remembered getting drunk. I blocked out the reason. It was too early for that shit.

Light filtered in the curtains, I could feel it on my cheek. It was almost peaceful. It felt like a crime to move my head from its spot on the pillow and disrupt the path of the early morning glow. It illuminated the insides of my eyelids-wait. Light? Pillow? My living room didn't have any windows; it was in the interior of the loft. And my armchair certainly didn't have a pillow.

My eyes shot open, met with the whitewashed walls of my bedroom. How the hell had I gotten here? I definitely knew I'd passed out in the chair. Then I felt it.

There was something resting lightly on my hip. There was something buried softly against my back. No.

But it was. I knew from the smell, from the pressure. Damon was in my bed, next to me. His hand was holding my hip and his floppy, black hair was pressed against my back, his body curled to me like a child. I could tell that he was actually asleep by the way his chest barely rose and fell. Like this, I could believe that Damon was like a child, a fallen cherub who'd gained evil beauty on the descent to earth. He was fucking beautiful. But right now he was in my bed, and I was trying desperately to remember if we'd done anything last night.

While seizing the rare opportunity to stare at Damon without him knowing, I noticed that he had boxers on. I looked down at myself and I was wearing a gray t-shirt and long sweatpants. I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that if Damon and I had had participated in any, erm, amorous activities, there was no way I'd be wearing this. With that worry off my chest, I was left wondering simply how did we end up like this? Instead of the cold apprehension that had filled me earlier, I was able to imagine a scenario with some amount of warmth.

Perhaps Damon had come, found me on the chair, and taken me to the bed and slept next to me despite my never being awake. The thought was enticing. The image in my mind of a tender Damon, spending the night with me without taking sex or using me, was almost too good to resist. I pictured how he would've changed me into my sleep clothes innocently. I pictured him actually caring.

Then again, maybe the thought wasn't so outrageous. Here he was, snuggled against me like I was his personal teddy bear. I had a suspicion that if I tried to leave the bed he would unconsciously hold me there. The cool spots where his skin touched mine were delicious little reminders of Damon being here. With me. After the feelings of abandonment last night, waking up to this was the last thing I'd expected. I wanted to roll over and smother Damon, to warm him up. I recalled the kiss he'd given me yesterday.

I flew back to reality when I felt Damon's hand twitch. I didn't move, not sure if he knew I was already awake or not. His fingers began tracing delicate patterns on my hip, and he nuzzled further into my back, inhaling deeply. I couldn't help myself, he was too adorable when he was sleepy. I'd never been around Damon when he wasn't the cocky, alert alpha male. I rolled over to face him.

His eyes were a little squinted from sleep and his light pink lips were in a relaxed smile.

"Hey." He breathed quietly.

"Good morning," I replied. "how did you get here?"

"Came last night, found you passed out drunk. Thought the bed would probably be more comfortable." Damon replied, offering no real detail about the situation. I didn't want to ruin the mood by prying. The halo of sunlight from the window contoured Damon's body and features, I was preoccupied by my mortal fascination with him.

"I was…well…what was up last night? You weren't yourself." Damon questioned me. I thought I saw worry flash across his face.

"Nothing." I said quickly. There was no way I was unloading my problems on Damon when he was the cause of most of them.

"Yeah, right." Damon spouted back sarcastically.

"Whatever, nothing." I repeated, hoping he'd drop it.

Thankfully, he did, or at least I thought so. He rolled me over, leaning on top of me, hovering his face inches from mine. His hands kept my shoulders down and his weight on top of me didn't allow me any room to move.

"Now, maybe I can inspire you to stop drinking to solve your problems. That shit's not healthy Ric. It's fine once and awhile. It's fine to have a drink, but you're human, remember? You shouldn't be blacking out multiple times a week. So whatever's wrong with you, fucking tell me next time." Damon growled into my ear, brushing his nose against mine while staring deeply into my eyes. I tried to turn my head to the side to escape his proximity. He just forced me to look at him again. I did kinda feel like an idiot.

"Do I make myself clear?" Damon asked seriously.

I nodded as much as he would allow, my stomach dropping in fear. I'd seen Damon snap people's necks before, I didn't want to be the next victim, even with my ring. Although, according to the subject of Damon's little talk, killing me wasn't really on his agenda, I couldn't help but shrink from the strength of his one-hundred plus years of vampire-dom.

"Good." Damon's lips curled up into a smile that really was much more like a snarl. Still holding my head, he shot down and kissed me savagely, bruising my lips with his severity. His tongue reached through my lips, seeking every inch of my own. I lost track of time until he pulled away slightly, biting my bottom lip firmly, rolling it a bit between his teeth. Somehow I managed to stay silent throughout the whole affair, a feat that I took some pride in.

"Damon, we didn't…do…" I looked guiltily up at him, averting my gaze in embarrassment.

"What?" Damon looked confused. Then realization dawned on him. "No, I told you, you were passed out. I took you to bed." Damon shrugged as if there were nothing at all unusual about his benevolent behavior.

"Mmkay." I grunted.

Damon was peeking out at me from under that irresistible black mop of hair flopping over his forehead, and he the look on his face was one I had never seen before. It wasn't fear, not pain; it was nearer to uncertainty.

"Do you really hate it that much?" He almost whispered. His baby blue eyes seemed to plead with me.

So I decided to tell the truth.

"Not once it's happening." My voice was flat.

"Mmkay." Damon mocked me. I couldn't tell whether my answer had hurt him or not. What should I care anyway? Was he not hurting me?

Damon rolled off of me and stood up. He pulled on a pair of tight jeans and a black t-shirt.

"For the record, I like it before, during, and after." He said, freezing me with an icy look and then stalking out of the room.

I fought the instinct to call him back. Guilt washed over me for my callousness. Just when Damon decided to show an ounce of true emotion, I had forced it back out of him. His words echoed in my ears, bringing new questions into my mind. What had he meant? Before. During. After. That was all the time, right? So had Damon been admitting to this being something beyond a solitary fuck? It was probably me just letting my own hopes run away with themselves, interpreting his words. But maybe it wasn't.

This morning's romance was undeniable. Waking up to his hand on my hip, tracing little patterns there…it was enjoyable. I'd loved it. Seeing Damon's sleepy eyes, knowing he'd stayed the night even without sex…it made me happy inside. His obvious worry at my alcoholism, that kiss…that kiss. I could still feel it, like a ghost on my swollen lips. I was struck with the strong desire to feel Damon's forehead on my own, to feel his voice carried on hot breath over my neck, whispering something to me.

I decided to pull myself out of bed and drive to the boarding house to find Damon. I couldn't just lay here wondering if he was alright; I had to take an active role in reaching out to him before he went on one of his notorious rampages. He was always the one showing up at my doorstep. Maybe this whole time he'd simply been afraid that I didn't reciprocate any feeling, that he was, in essence, raping me. That wasn't the case. No matter how much I denied it, I knew I got a shock of pleasure from walking into the loft with Damon there, from waking up with him next to me, pressing himself against me. I wanted him.

For just a little while I was going to have to put my feelings second to someone else's. Who knows, maybe I'd find out the true reason for his nighttime visits in the process.

I twirled my keys around my finger and opened the front door to possibility.

TO BE CONTINUED….

**READ AND REVIEW PLEASE! IF ANYONE HAS IDEAS FOR PLOT OR SUGGESTIONS, I WILL TRY MY BEST TO TAKE THEM INTO CONSIDERATION. Dalaric forever.**


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